


Festive

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dork Jean Kirstein, Drinking, F/M, Inns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: Mikasa is quite bad at sneaking things into her room.





	Festive

Jean wasn’t too picky about the quality of the inn. Though the rooms were small, they clean and reasonably well-kept. He also was given the luxury of having one all to himself.

While Jean had nothing against sharing sleep quarters, he quite liked having his privacy. Though he wasn’t sure how long the Survey Corps would have him and his comrades on stand-by, Jean could at least enjoy what little time he had.

He could sketch alone in peace, letting his mind go wild on a piece of blank paper. He could read one of the books that Armin had lent him, though he was only halfway through the paper doorstopper. He could even wander the town. However, Jean liked to save that activity for when it felt like the walls of his room was starting to close in on him.

Jean was pulling on his jacket when he left his room.

The evening was young. While the sun was still in the sky, it was setting low on the horizon, tinting the atmosphere a dreamy pink. Jean could see a slight, rose-coloured glow seeping in through the inn’s windows, even while he stood in the hallway.

As he buttoned up his coat, Jean heard footsteps behind him. In knowing the person who had the room across from his, he turned around to see if it was them.

Sure enough, Mikasa Ackerman was walking through the inn’s hall. She had her coat on as well, though it seemed that she was returning from an outing as opposed to leaving for once.

Her eyes were focused on the floor and she had a glass bottle with her. It seemed that she was trying (and failing) to hide that bottle in the folds of her coat.

“Hey,” Jean greeted with the utmost simplicity.

Mikasa took her eyes off the floor for a very brief moment. When she saw that it was Jean, she immediately looked away and towards her door.

“Hey,” she acknowledged blandly. When she got to her door, she reached in her pocket and dug around for her key.

Jean kept his eye on the bottle so obviously sticking out of her inner coat pocket. As baggy as her coat was, it couldn’t hide what was so clearly there.

“What’s that? Wine?” Jean guessed, trying to get a better look from his angle.

Mikasa looked to him again, then she looked down to see the bottle neck sticking out of her coat. With an annoyed expression, she grabbed it with her free hand.

“Didn’t hide that as well as I thought I did.”

“What kind of wine is it?” Jean asked. “White? Red?”

“Don’t know,” Mikasa answered. She was still digging in her pocket for her key. “Something with bubbles in it.”

“It’s festive,” Jean noted.

Mikasa, pausing what she was doing, turned around to face Jean with a quizzical look on her face. “What?”

“You know,” Jean said. He raised his arms up and waved them in a way reminiscent to a partying soldier after two steins of ale. “Festive.”

Mikasa was still quite lost. She had her eyebrow raised at him, confused. But in a moment, she looked back to her pocket. “I don’t get it,” she mumbled as she finally found her key.

Awkwardly, Jean put his arms down. He felt lucky that Mikasa was currently unable to witness the reddening of his face.

“Uh…” Jean struggled to speak to her. “I was just heading out for a walk. Then I was thinking of heading to the tavern after.”

“Okay,” Mikasa responded. She was currently putting the key inside of the hole.

“Wanna come?” Jean offered.

Mikasa turned her head back to him, “To the tavern or to the walk?”

“Either,” Jean shrugged. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to though. I mean, you got your bubbly over there, so…” He was starting to trail off. “Yeah… your choice.”

“I think I’ll stick with my… _bubbly_ ,” Mikasa decided. It seemed that the word felt strange for her to say.

Never in his life did Jean Kirschtein ever expect to hear the words ‘bubbly’ come out of Mikasa Ackerman’s mouth. It was an experience both curious and enlightening.

As Jean took in the strange moment, Mikasa finally got her door open.

“Like you said, it’s _‘festive,’_ ” she continued on, albeit dryly.

“It’s kinda sad drinking alone,” Jean commented. He put his hands into his coat pockets to give them something to do.

Mikasa went still. Her hand was on the door knob, unwavering and unmoving. She looked to him with her eyes only, “I’m aware.”

“I’m just saying,” Jean brought up. He raised his hands up in defense, “No offence.”

“None taken,” Mikasa replied. “There’s just not much of a difference between me drinking in a tavern of strangers and me drinking alone.”

“That’s fair,” Jean agreed, though not entirely. “But if you do head down to the tavern, I’ll probably be there.”

“Good point,” admitted Mikasa. She loosened her grip on the doorknob, “You’re strange, but you’re not a stranger.”

Jean blinked. He wasn’t sure how to properly reply to that statement.

“Uh… okay.” He looked to the window in the hall of the inn and saw the sun getting sapped away with every passing second. “I should probably go.”

Jean started to walk down the hall. A few steps in, he turned on his heel just before Mikasa could get into her room, “Stop by if you’re really feeling like it. I mean, what’s the fun in drinking alone?”

“Fun isn’t exactly what I’m looking for,” Mikasa mumbled. Her free hand was on the edge of the door. Though she could step into her room, she stayed at the doorway, watching Jean.

He nodded his head and turned around again. He kept on walking until he got to the staircase at the end of the hall. He walked down until he disappeared from Mikasa’s sight.


End file.
